


Club Justin

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: BDSM, Canon, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-06
Updated: 2004-03-06
Packaged: 2018-12-27 02:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12071646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: It's opening night at Club Justin, and Brian is in for a treat.





	Club Justin

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Thanks: To CJ for her input and suggestions.

* * *

The loft door slid open. Brian was home.

Justin had been waiting patiently for hours and was more than ready for him. Before Brian could set a single foot across the threshold, Justin rushed him and covered his face in hot, urgent kisses, all while gradually turning Brian’s body to the left, so that he wound up facing away from the living area. 

Justin didn’t want Brian to see “the stage”. 

Brian didn’t notice the maneuver. He was too busy with maneuvers of his own. 

“I have a surprise for you.” Justin said in between kisses.

“You do?” 

“Uh huh,” said Justin pulling away. 

It was then that Brian got a good look at Justin’s outfit. It was some sort of long, shapeless tunic.

“What the fuck is that? A caftan?”

“Yeah, I borrowed it from Emmett.” 

“Of course you did. Are you planning a fucking pilgrimage?”

“Yeah, a pilgrimage to your dick.” Justin laughed. 

“Well don’t keep your messiah waiting.” Brian cupped himself suggestively and raised an expectant brow. 

“Do you _want_ your surprise or not?" 

“It depends. Do _I_ have to wear one of those things?” 

Justin shot him an amused glare. “Just shut up and come with me.”

“Don’t I always?” Brian asked innocently.

Justin laughed again and grabbed Brian by the lapels. “Come on, for once, be a good boy and do as you’re told.” 

Once he had Brian safely in the bedroom, Justin gave him his instructions. “Change and get comfortable. I’ve closed all the panels so you can’t see the rest of the loft. Do _not_ peek. When you’re ready, call me and I’ll come get you. Okay?”

In lieu of a reply, Brian leaned in to kiss him, but Justin pulled away. "Just do what I said, and call me when you’re ready.” 

Brian tried to grab him again, but Justin easily dodged him. “Obey me, Kinney. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” Justin blew him a kiss, grinned and ran down the stairs. 

Brian had to admit he was intrigued; Justin’s surprises were usually hot as fuck. He didn’t know what he was in for, but he figured he might as well look his best so he stripped and went into the bathroom to freshen up. Pausing in front of the mirror, he openly admired what he saw. He'd been to the tanning salon earlier in the day and had that rosy-cinnamon color thing going on. He looked good and edible. 

‘I think I’ll give that twat a surprise of his own.’ If there was one thing the boy liked, it was the contrast of stark white against bronzed skin. He had just the ensemble in mind. He'd worn it to the White Party, and it had been a smash. 

After donning the clothes, he once again studied himself in the mirror. ‘Fucking devastating.’ The white drawstring pants hung low while the white mesh tank was cut off high, leaving plenty of good eats in between. He remembered Justin’s reaction the first time he'd seen the outfit - stunned, with a side of drool. Brian couldn’t wait to see that face again.

“Oh Justin, I’m ready.” 

Justin came in quickly and stopped dead in his tracks. Stunned, with a side of drool. He came forward slowly.

“Fuck. You look-"

“I know.” Brian stood with his arms outstretched - a dinner invitation.

Justin failed to point out Brian’s lack of humility as he had other things on his mind - namely, Brian’s stomach. He leaned down and kissed the warm, tanned belly. He _loved_ this fucking stomach. He loved to come all over it. He loved to lay his head on it after sucking Brian off. He loved to watch it ripple above him while being fucked long and hard. He inhaled deeply and rubbed his face back and forth, back and forth, lost in worship.

"Hey, I hate to interrupt your prayers, but where’s my surprise?”

The spell broken, Justin straightened up reluctantly, shook his head a little, and re-focused on the task at hand. 

“I’m gonna cover your eyes so you can’t see, okay?” 

“It's your scene," Brian drawled.

Justin tied a silk scarf around Brian’s head, took him by the hand, and led him carefully to the couch where he sat him down. “Stay here and no peeking.” His words were firm and punctuated with a strategically placed pinch.

He walked quickly around the loft, turning off lights, before turning his attention to two new light fixtures. Emmett had supplied him with a table top, mirrored disco ball as well as a small, pink spotlight which was on the floor next to the couch. 

When all the “special lighting” had been turned on and positioned, he removed the blindfold. Brian blinked several times and looked around. The loft was in semi-darkness; suffused with a dusky, pink glow and filled with swirling discs of light that slipped and slid across the walls and ceiling. Nice. 

“Let me guess, Emmett?” 

“Uh huh.”

“Christ, what a fag.”

“It takes one to know one.” 

“No, it takes one to _fuck_ one. Come here.” 

“Stop. It’s almost time for the show.”

“Show?” 

“Yes, show.” Justin pointed to the “curtain” behind him.

“What the fuck is that?” Worriedly, Brian looked up at the makeshift curtain hanging from his ceiling. 

“Don’t worry. It’s not permanent. It’s attached with double-sided tape, and Em promised it won’t leave a residue.”

“Uh huh.”

To distract him from the curtain, Justin turned and picked up the highball glass and bottle of Beam which were waiting nearby. He poured a generous shot and handed the glass over. “And for your smoking pleasure. ” Justin presented a fat stogie and a lighter with ashtray. “Enjoy.” 

He then stood back and paused for effect. “Welcome to the grand opening of Club Justin.”

“Club Justin?”

“That’s right. The most exclusive gay strip club in the Northeast.”

Brian leaned back smiling, spread his legs and prepared himself to be thoroughly entertained. 

“Ok then, bring it.”

Justin was prepared to do just that and disappeared behind the “curtain.” Brian heard a series of noises coming from behind the fabric, and then, a few seconds later, the sound of drums filled the loft - slow, hypnotic and tribal. Brian smiled and lit the joint. He held the smoke deep in his lungs, feeling the music's rhythmic bass thrumming through his veins. He exhaled a long, sweet plume and relaxed into the sofa, then took another hit and chased it with a healthy sip of whiskey. 

“Hey bongo boy, what’s taking so long?”

Justin didn’t answer. He was almost done. In preparation for the show, he'd set up a small table and chair behind the curtain. He put the finishing touches on his makeup and looked into the lighted mirror that Emmett had lent him. He studied the face reflected back at him. ‘Oh yeah, Brian is gonna love this.’ He'd smudged dark blue kohl around his eyes and stained his lips a pale cranberry. He knew it secretly turned Brian on to see him all made up, though the fucker would never admit it. 

Justin thought about that particular discovery. 

One rainy afternoon, he and Emmett had been in the loft bathroom playing with some of the campy queen’s more outrageous makeup when Brian had walked in unannounced. He'd pretended to be all horrified and disgusted, but after Emmett left, he'd fucked Justin right where he stood, calling him “my pretty boy” the whole time. Who would've thought?

“Hey, I paid good money for this show!”

Justin picked up the pot of “edible” gold gel and quickly smoothed it over his face and neck. He'd glittered up the rest of his body hours before. He was ready now. 

He lowered the volume on the CD player gradually, so as not to break the mood. Once the sound was off completely, he selected the third track and waited for his intro music to begin. The CD was a compilation of various drum-based songs from around the world, and they were all sexy as shit. 

Brian heard the change in music and sat up a little. He didn't have long to wait. The moment he saw Justin, he lost the smirk and gained a hard-on.

What the fuck?

Justin was covered in what appeared to be a coat of gold body paint, but it was hard to tell because of the lighting. Brian leaned forward, squinting to get a better look. Justin was barefoot and bare chested; his skin glimmering and sparking with pink-gold iridescent flashes. And on closer inspection, he saw that Justin was indeed wearing a pair of pants, if you could call them that. They were made of some sort of metallic netting and were so sheer and tight, they looked like fucking Cling Wrap. 

Justin’s cock was hard and high and beautifully outlined against his belly. 

Damn.

The only other adornment was a wide, gold leather belt that hung low on his hips. The buckle was obscenely large and studded with rhinestones that spelled out “Boy Toy”.

Brian’s dick jerked. 

Justin began a slow, sinuous dance. His eyes locked onto Brian, who could do nothing but stare back, mouth slightly agape. As Justin swayed closer, Brian flashed back to the first time he'd seen him at Babylon - half-naked and sprinkled with shiny confetti - a golden, brazen boy, fierce and determined in his pursuit. 

Justin danced closer still, until he was inches from Brian's face, doing a slow bump and grind. Oh hell. Brian promptly reached up and grabbed those teasing, gilded hips with both hands.

“Sir, please keep your hands to yourself. You know the policy - no touching the dancers.” Justin tempered his scolding with a seductive smile.

He pulled away, silently relishing Brian’s lust. Fueled by the pounding drums, Justin wove and spun, dipped and twirled. He got down on the floor and pumped his hips, in double time, simulating the sex act. 

Brian watched intently.

Justin stood and did a slow pirouette, spread his legs and grabbed his ankles, giving Brian a good, long look at the way the thin fabric molded to his ass and thighs. He caressed his ass sensually, over and over, looking back over his shoulder to gauge the effect. 

Brian was rapt. 

Justin slid his hands inside the top of the filmy pants and tugged them down, revealing more and more of his pale buttocks. He drew the strip tease out. Slow, slow, slower. The boy worked it like a pro. Finally, he swung his hips in a fast swivel, and the material puddled to the floor. 

Brian saw a flash of gold, and his breath caught. A thong.

The dancer turned, his hard-on barely contained by the scrap of gold covering his groin. He moved forward gracefully until he was standing close and subtly continued to grind.

“That smells good, let me have some.” Justin held out his hand. 

“You’re working.”

“It’s okay. The boss doesn’t mind a little weed. He likes us stoned.” Brian wordlessly handed him the joint and watched as Justin took two quick hits before handing it back. 

“It’s customary to tip the dancers if you like what you see.” he purred. 

Brian smiled and reached over to the pile of bills that had been left on the side table. He'd seen them earlier and had briefly wondered as to their purpose. He leisurely slid the bills under the gold elastic, and Justin added to the fun by rolling and thrusting in time to the music. Of course, Brian tried to grab his dick, and Justin immediately slapped him down. 

“Sir, if you can’t follow the rules, I’m gonna have to call a bouncer.”

Brian shot him an "oh-well-you-lose" look and leaned back. He still had most of the singles in his hand, and he waved them lazily back and forth. “Show me something, mister” he whispered.

“Please remember sir, no touching.”

“Whatever you say.”

Justin turned fluidly and backed up to stand inside of Brian’s legs. He bent forward, reached behind him and spread his cheeks wide open, wriggling his ass and making sure not to make contact with his customer’s face. Sensing a quick movement, he suddenly felt Brian’s breath, warm and moist, against his skin. He waited, allowing time for the man to inhale his scent, and when he decided that Brian had gotten his fill, he moved away and turned to face him. 

Brian looked a bit dazed, and Justin pressed his advantage. “How about showing some appreciation?”

After the last bill had been tucked in place, Justin leaned over and placed his hands on the back of the couch, effectively boxing Brian in. It was a risky move, akin to caging a dangerous beast, but he took the chance that the man would behave. 

“You’re _very_ generous. I’ve been known to do special favors for my favorite customers.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh, yeah. Why don’t you meet me out back after the show? But don’t let the manager or bouncers see you.” 

“I’ll try to avoid them.” 

Having successfully arranged their tryst, Justin moved away. He was ready for his grand finale. Standing in glorious profile, he pulled his cock completely free of the thong. Several bills fluttered to the floor as he gripped his dick and began to jerk himself with long, lazy strokes. 

Brian licked his lips. 

Keeping time to the music’s quickening beat, Justin increased his own tempo. As the drums beat out their final, violent rhythm, strands of milky come shot high into the air and landed on his chest and belly. He staggered slightly but managed to stay on his feet, breathing roughly through his mouth. Still stroking his dick, he turned toward Brian and opened his eyes. He let go of his cock and ran his hands up and down his body, spreading the creamy jizz evenly, provocatively. 

Brian stood up. 

“No.” Justin said in a breathy rasp. “Customers need to stay seated at all times.”

Brian tensed, stared for a few beats, then laughed quietly and sat down.

As the drumming faded, Justin disappeared behind the curtain. The show was obviously over. Brian launched himself off the couch, wasting no time in getting “out back.” He tore the curtain aside and found Justin waiting, arms at his side, breathing heavily. 

“What took you so long?”

Brian didn’t answer. He wanted to taste Justin and was on him in a flash. He dropped to his knees and pulled him close, licking everywhere, cleaning him thoroughly. Hungrily. Sweet-salty boy. So fucking good. He ripped the thong away and shoved the rhinestone buckle to the side, scraping a hip bone in his haste. No fucking obstacles. Justin gasped as he felt his semi-hard dick being pulled deep into Brian’s mouth where it was sucked down savagely. With a weak cry, Justin tried to pull back. It was too much. Too soon. 

“No!” Brian growled around a mouthful of cock. “No!”

He held Justin tighter and continued to suck - deep, greedy sucks. Justin was under assault. ‘Those sounds . . . like an animal . . . oh . . . oh God. . .' Dizzy, and in an attempt to stay half-sane, Justin bit down hard on his own hand. 

Brian released him suddenly and crouched low, catching his breath. Justin closed his eyes and waited. He felt, rather than saw, the man surge to his feet. 

“My turn. Lube my dick.”

Justin sank to his knees immediately. He was frantic to free Brian’s dick. Goddamn drawstring. Fuck! Finally successful, he yanked the pants down and inhaled the thick cock into his mouth, relishing the weight of it on his tongue. But Brian didn’t want a blow job, he wanted to fuck and Justin made sure to get him good and wet. Way too soon, he felt himself being pulled up by the hair.

“No! I want more!” Justin protested. 

“Later. Right now, I want some of that ass you've been flaunting all night. Turn around.” 

Justin heard the warning in Brian’s voice, turned quickly, stepped wide, bent over and touched the floor. Brian spit into his crack several times, saturating him, then worked him with saliva-slick fingers until he was ready.

“You better hold on, Sunshine.”

Justin had barely braced himself against the wall when Brian rammed his cock home. Buried it to the root; zero to sixty in _no_ seconds. They'd been doing it raw for a month now. They'd been monogamous for close to a year. 

Justin cried out as he felt himself impossibly stretched, impossibly filled. ‘Breathe, breathe, breathe.’ His body was always astonished by the size of Brian’s dick; always astonished it could take the whole thing. 

Brian waited for his signal, holding Justin tight up against him, and it wasn’t long before he felt the slap on his flank. Go. No warm up, no preliminaries - the kid was a fucking _pig_ for cock and had been from day one. Brian fucked him hard and fast - he liked it rough and so did Justin. 

Justin tried to fuck back but couldn’t find his balance. It was too hard, too fast. All he could do was breathe and try to keep from being pounded into the brick. He felt Brian’s hand on his dick, pulling roughly. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._ He came in a hot rush, slamming his forehead into the wall, and Brian came with him, holding on so tightly the marks would be visible by morning. 

With a final grunt, Brian fell forward and Justin did his best to keep them both upright but failed, his arms finally giving out. They crashed, unceremoniously, to the hardwood where they lay laughing and groaning. When they had caught their breath, they turned gingerly toward each other, and Brian reached out and tugged on the gold belt. 

“Emmett's?”

“Yeah, but he said I could keep it, if I want. Do I want?” Justin asked coyly. 

“Yeah, you want.”

“I thought so.” 

Brian chuckled and rolled onto his back, pulling the golden boy with him. Justin winced and let out a low moan. 

“You all right?”

“Nothing that won’t heal in a month. Remind me to scrub my flesh off the wall later.” 

“Show me where it hurts.”

Justin lifted the hair off his forehead and revealed a small scrape, he then raised his left hand and displayed a small gash. Brian brought the hand down to his lips and kissed the palm over and over, then did the same for his forehead. 

“Better?”

“Much.” 

“You have glitter all over your face.”

“So do you.” 

Brian looked into Justin’s eyes, smudged and exotic, smoky and dark. Unfamiliar, yet pleasing. His gaze turned to the boy’s mouth. Wine-colored and ripe. He kissed it softly. “Mmm, fruity.”

“It’s Mixed Berries. You like it?”

In response, Brian licked and licked until it was gone. 

“So, did you like the show?” 

“It was all right.”

“All _right_?” 

“I’ve seen better.”

“The fuck you have!” Justin bit down hard on Brian’s lower lip to emphasize his displeasure. 

“Ow! You fucking bitch! Is that blood? Am I bleeding?”

Justin saw that he was but didn’t bother to confirm it. 

“I saw your face _and_ your dick when you first laid eyes on me. Instant erection, just add Justin. You thought it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Admit it.”

Silence.

“Tell the truth you fucker, or I’ll...” Justin bared his teeth and made as if to bite. Quick as a snake, Brian grabbed his lover’s face and pushed him away, holding him tightly by the jaw. 

“If you fucking bite me again, I’ll-”

“What? Fuck me so hard you leave me bloody and bruised?” Justin struggled to get away but couldn't break Brian's grip. 

Brian stared at him for a moment, then smiled slyly. “I guess I _did_ punish you pretty good.” He released his hold, and Justin lowered his head to tenderly lick the blood from Brian’s mouth. 

“You always punish me pretty good. So, did you like the show? 

“I may be interested in a membership.”

“Well, it’s a very exclusive club; it only allows one member at a time.” Justin continued to lick softly. 

“Only one?”

“Yeah.” 

“Would there happen to be an opening?”

“Yeah.”

“Where do I sign up?”

“Come back tomorrow, during the day, and talk to the manager. I’ll put in a good word.” 

Carefully, Justin pushed himself off the floor and shakily got to his feet. He watched Brian kick away the linen pants, then reached down and helped him up. They held onto each other as they limped their way into the bedroom - Brian in his mesh top and Justin in his belt. 

They had been lying quietly for several minutes when Justin spoke. “I think I’m gonna quit this job, there ain’t no amount of tips worth _that_ kind of abuse.”

“You could ask for hazard pay.”

“More like fucking combat pay.”

Brian laughed softly and kissed Justin’s forehead. “I promise to be gentle for at least a week.”

“Make it two days and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

After several moments of silence, Brian spoke. “By the way, I liked the makeup. Especially that berry stuff.”

“I knew it. You are _so_ a closet drag queen.”

“Actually, I’m the fag that _fucks_ the closet drag queen.”

“Jesus, that sounds like a bad movie."

“Or a good cable show."

“Brian likes boys in girls’ makeup. Brian likes boys in girls’ makeup.” Justin’s soft singsong filled the air above their heads. 

“You know, I have to confess that I’m _thrilled_ to be fucking a six-year-old.”

“Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

More silence.

“Did I happen to mention just how much I like that berry stuff?”

Justin smiled, rolled out of Brian’s embrace and reached over to the night stand where he had stashed the lip gloss, knowing it would be called for an encore. He swiped it on generously and served himself up. Brian pulled him close and kissed him, then he kissed him some more. 

Justin’s last thought, before drifting off, was that he just might keep the job after all. Hazardous or not, there was no arguing with the fact that the fringe benefits were fucking outstanding.


End file.
